


Surveillance

by Weconqueratdawn



Series: A Luxury of Punishments [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Plug, Collared Will, Collars, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, Illustrated, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Milking, Sadism, Sex Tapes, Spanking, Voyeurism, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weconqueratdawn/pseuds/Weconqueratdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes to find Hannibal has left him both a surprise and a challenge, and determines to make the most of it.</p><p>Part of my <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6220945/chapters/14253013">Cathexis</a>-verse - a Hannigram AU</p><p>
  <em>This time Hannibal had not been there to smile indulgently down at him, to feed him from his own hand. This time Will had found, on the tray of delicious edible offerings left on the nightstand, a note:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I will be watching."</em>
</p><p>Update: new chapter added!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSeaVoices](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeaVoices/gifts).



> [theseavoices](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeaVoices/pseuds/TheSeaVoices) asked if I could write something to go with [this (very very nsfw) gif](http://theseavoices.tumblr.com/post/147203197961/surveillance-weconqueratdawn-hannibal-tv) and I am weak and could not resist ;)
> 
> Beta'd as always by lordofthelesbians and wraithsonwings :)))))

Will rolled his hips lavishly, splayed across Egyptian cotton sheets Hannibal had imported from Italy especially for this bed. They were cool against his shin when he slid his knee higher, rubbing his cock against them. If he exposed himself further to the camera, standing benignly on it’s tripod to one side, so much the better.

He’d awoken perhaps half an hour ago, from a pleasant doze induced by Hannibal’s merciless efforts to teach him patience. Since they’d begun this interesting programme, Will had learned it was possible to lose himself in ways other than climaxing. Instead it might be the crescendo resulting from Hannibal’s belt, or the sensation of letting himself be used solely for Hannibal’s pleasure. Each time there would be a summit, beyond which he could resist no further. Instead he would feel himself fall apart beautifully into Hannibal’s welcome embrace, and then afterwards into a sound sleep.

This time Hannibal had not been there to smile indulgently down at him, to feed him from his own hand. This time Will had found, on the tray of delicious edible offerings left on the nightstand, a note:

_I will be watching._

The little red dot on the camera had thrilled and delighted Will, already filming him as he slept. He imagined Hannibal slipping out of bed to set it up, so on waking Will would find another contrived game for them to play. There was nothing else written in Hannibal’s elegant hand, no rules or demands - a challenge left deliberately open for Will to interpret and improvise to.

Will had made his decision rapidly, staring down into the camera with a faint grin, licking his fingers greedily clean from the blinis and miniature crostini. Hannibal would be watching from another room in the house, perhaps sipping wine in the study with his tablet propped up on the desk. Sat comfortably in his plush desk chair, disregarding the swelling thickness of his cock, safely spectating from a distance. He would appear at Will’s side when he wanted, and until then, Will would concern himself only with his own gratification.

He sat back against the pillows, the gaze of the camera not so dissimilar to Hannibal’s own. Watchful, relentless, apparently dispassionate and objective when actually anything but. It was nearly a physical impression, cool but weighty on Will’s tingling skin, causing his neglected cock to twitch once more. Having been denied orgasm several times already that day his heightened arousal continued unabated, despite his short rest. Forbidden to touch himself and indeed unable to, wrists chained as they were to his collar, keeping his hands just out of reach of his dick.

Will stretched out to retrieve a glass of water to drink from, making sure to emphasise the length of his neck as he did so, and the sturdy leather fastened around it. Knowing he was desired and enjoying it was still a relative novelty, a situation he’d found himself placed in by Hannibal’s obvious reverence. Playing up to it, performing, and in doing so finding and revealing hidden truths about himself. Clearly this had been in Hannibal’s mind also, the decision to film - and presumably record - him taken to expand on this further. It was likely Hannibal would make him watch the final result, analysing his performance and meting out praise or punishment as he judged necessary. 

With a final, knowing smile at the camera, Will stretched onto his stomach, in much the same position as he’d woken in. Hannibal had observed him sleeping like this, unaware and vulnerable. He found the thought more arousing than he perhaps should, and thrust gently against the mattress. With his forearms braced underneath him, he began to writhe with greater purpose, moaning and wondering if the camera recorded sound. In case it did, he tilted his head to one side and moaned again, louder, unmuffled by the pillow.

He spread his thighs apart, rocking and grinding, feeling the drag of the damp tip of his dick over soft, thousand thread-count cotton. His cock was heavy and thick between his thighs as it nudged against them, and he squeezed them lightly together, a sweet pressure which made him gasp. As he opened his legs once more, he felt cool air whisper over the fullness of his balls, rolling smoothly with him as he moved. The chain connecting his wrists pressed into his chest, and every tiny clink it made as he moved caused his excitement to pitch higher. Over his shoulder he blinked dazedly at the camera, aware of Hannibal watching his every movement and shifted again, angling himself to improve the view. 

It was almost sordid, rubbing himself into the bedclothes like a teenager, except here he intentionally presented himself to beholding eyes. He knew how to arch and stretch and display, and revelled in it. And he wanted Hannibal to know he wasn’t going to wait for him; wasn’t going to wriggle and tease until he came downstairs to permit Will to come. That Will performed like this, on camera, because it suited him to, and he would find his completion just like this. Shameless and still technically untouched, a mockery of his submissive endeavour to learn patience under Hannibal’s direction. 

Will grinned into the pillow, finding the implication that he still somehow obeyed Hannibal’s direction while simultaneously defying it, amusing and arousing all at once. He strained to position himself just right, to convey waiting submission balanced with inviting neediness. Declaring, “ _look how good I am for you, how well I obey,”_ while immodestly grinding his scent into Hannibal’s sheets.

Groaning loudly, lasciviously, mostly real and only slightly staged, he rutted more purposefully. His hips rolled less and thrust more, short rough strokes which concentrated friction all along his hard length. His climax, staved off for so long, was now near and he held back nothing in chasing it. Will peered back towards the impassive lens as if it were a two-way mirror, seeing, instead of the camera, Hannibal’s hungry gaze staring back at him.

He came opulently, thighs shaking and hips still working deliberately, head twisted to one side so he could look deep into the camera. Will lay gasping, hips rolling languidly, for a few seconds, feeling with satisfaction the warm wetness between his thighs. Then he gave a sigh and stretched, before rolling over and sitting up to face the camera fully. Will couldn’t help the sly grin which stole over his face, especially as he looked down at himself and the pooled mess on Hannibal’s expensive sheets. His cock was still pleasantly full, and a thick strand of come smeared across his thighs. The result couldn’t have been designed better if he’d tried, and he made sure the camera caught it all.

Hannibal's footsteps on the stairs were now inevitable, and Will waited, still on display.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave it there, could I? :)
> 
> Hannibal had to have an opportunity to share his thoughts on Will's performance, and here they are...

When Hannibal arrived twenty seconds later, he was playfully stern. He bent over Will, careful not to block the camera’s view, and surveyed the mess on the sheets.

After some moments had passed, Hannibal clicked his tongue. “If you had waited for me you could have done so much better.”

Will grinned lazily up at him, happily sated and very pleased with himself. He didn't speak, preferring instead to let Hannibal take this train of thought where he would. It was inevitable there would be a rejoinder to his earlier fun.

Hannibal dropped his tablet onto the bed and, with one knee on the mattress, thoughtfully sucked Will's softening cock clean. Will flinched a little, hypersensitive, but didn’t protest. Instead he hummed a noise which could be interpreted as apology or self-satisfaction or both. It was over in moments, Hannibal pulling back with slow gentle suction until Will slipped from his lips.

He smiled suggestively down at Will. “I know you have more than that to give me,” he said, and smoothly slid off the bed. 

Will watched him open the wardrobes which concealed shelves and shelves of neatly organised objects, some seemingly innocuous and some very obviously not. Hannibal lingered, the tilt of his head and the shifting muscles of his back exaggerated in a display of deliberation. Choice finally made, he returned to Will and held out the items - a bottle of lube and a large metal anal plug.

Will squirmed involuntarily - he knew the plug well. It's design was merciless, made to stimulate his most sensitive spot with the minimum amount of sustained stretch. The thick, bulbous end tapered steeply into something far more manageable so it could be worn for long periods without discomfort, while it's heavy weight was kept seated deep inside. It pressed deliciously but remorselessly as he moved, and could reduce him to shameless begging in under an hour. Hannibal had favoured it greatly a few months ago, requiring Will to wear it around the house while his hungry gaze followed Will everywhere. Will himself had tried not to show too conspicuously how much he loved being kept constantly ready for Hannibal's pleasure.

“Onto your stomach please, lengthways across the bed. I think the camera should witness this, don't you?”

Will complied obediently, still silent. In addition to it now being sensible to be as submissive as possible, he was ready to let go and enjoy Hannibal being in control. He lay, relaxed and unmoving, while Hannibal adjusted the camera, angled slightly to look down at Will stretched across the bed. 

The mattress shifted between Will’s spread legs, and he then felt the cool slick press and massage of Hannibal’s fingers. He was thorough but quick, his real aim only to insert the plug inside Will comfortably. Will relaxed as much as he was able and felt it slide home with a gasp. Its passage left him with a pleasant tingling ache where now only the slimmer stem kept him nudged gently open. The flat base sat cold and firm against his ass cheeks. If he didn't move there was relatively little sensation - only the metal warming to his own heat and the smooth, steady press of its weight. 

Behind him Hannibal hummed in satisfaction and wiped his fingers on the messy sheets. Will lay quiet and languid, until Hannibal smacked his hand down hard on one ass cheek. The sound was shocking but it was the clench in his internal muscles and the shudder of the plug at the sudden impact which left Will gasping into his folded arms. 

“Very good,” said Hannibal. “Now, up on your hands and knees. If you want to perform for me so much, now is the time to do so.”

As Will rose up there was another smack which left his skin hot and ringing with sensation, jolting the plug again. Will's spent cock twitched, and so soon after his badly-needed orgasm it was almost painful. Sighing, he shut his eyes and prepared himself, as Hannibal's intentions became clearer.

“Oh no. You will need to watch too,” Hannibal said, hooking two fingers under Will’s jaw to make him face forward. “Here, this will interest you.”

He propped the tablet up on the bed, directly in Will’s immediate eye-line. On its screen was a high-quality digital stream of himself, as seen from behind. There was the smooth line of his own back, his ass presented upwards, his soft but still-heavy cock hanging between his spread thighs. And a crystal-clear view of the silver base of the plug nudged firmly against the round flesh of his ass.

“Oh God,” Will broke out with, unthinkingly. He swallowed heavily. He’d seen himself before, usually in mirrors, but this was different, seedier and more depraved. He looked like an object here, something to be played with.

“Indeed,” Hannibal agreed, the smugness in his voice irritatingly apparent. He leaned low over Will's shoulder to look at the screen alongside him. “Now you can see exactly what I see.”

When Hannibal moved upright again, Will's thigh twitched, anticipating another slap. None came but he saw the moment unfold on the screen in front of him, and how the tense tremble of his muscles was beyond his control. He saw how easy he was to take apart - every thought and feeling visible, rippling through him. No wonder Hannibal enjoyed this so much. The power Will offered him was obvious, and the knowledge only made Will more open and willing to submit.

Gently, Hannibal placed the broad of his hand on Will's back and ran it slowly down to his flanks, like he was assessing an animal for good health. His fingers slid around Will's ass to the plug, caressing lightly where it spread him open. Hannibal barely touched him but Will's muscles wound tighter all the same, and he let out a shuddering gasp when Hannibal drew back. 

“You're very quiet,” Hannibal said. “I think I'd like to hear you more.”

There was a sensation of brief absence and a rush of air before Hannibal's hand made contact again, hard and full across one cheek. He'd known it was coming - the screen had shown him Hannibal's arm raise and the measured strength behind it. With startling digital clarity there was now a bright red handprint on his ass, already beginning to fade. Will groaned and shifted his knees, the weighty push of the plug moving with him.

“Better, but how about this?”

Instead of sharp single strokes, Hannibal commenced a string of lighter smacks in rapid succession. They built into a rhythm which was predictable, sensitising Will's skin and almost vibrating the plug inside him under the repeated impact. Will panted harshly, gritting his teeth as his cock strained and failed to fill out again. The effect escalated, until he could think of nothing else. It was neither pain nor pleasure - just simply overwhelming sensation. It put him in a place beyond choice - if Hannibal had asked if he wanted to continue he couldn't have answered.

The onslaught ended with one hard strike, which spread a brittle stinging pain shooting across Will's skin. The shock travelled through his entire body, making him clamp down involuntarily around the plug. He moaned loudly, squeezing his hands into fists, arching his back at the sensation. The plug seemed heavier, a warm and full weight pressing insistently down on his prostate.

He’d learned through Hannibal’s tutelage that pleasure could be had without the prospect of climax. But under this relentless stimulation, it was curiously unfamiliar to understand that his dick hung soft still and another orgasm was impossible. The arousal he felt was not physical, and the thought he could do nothing to change that fact caused it to spike, uselessly. That, and the image of him on the screen too - bent over, obedient, enduring, while Hannibal stood poised with focused intent. Knowing perfectly well that Will would let him do whatever he wished.

The video showed him Hannibal's hand moving towards him again, and he flinched. He saw how Hannibal caught the aborted movement with an incline of his sleek head. Hannibal's face was out of shot but he could imagine the slow smile tugging at his lips as he smacked Will again, hard. The shock juddered the plug again, and Will fought to remain still to lessen it’s effect. Hannibal stroked a soothing hand over his reddened skin, before his fingers took hold of the plug and gently manipulated it in a tiny circle.

“Fuck.” Will dropped his head, unable to do anything except ride the building sensation. It was strange, like approaching orgasm but with none of the pleasure. Just a tense, onward rush towards something not entirely wanted.

“Head up, please. I want you to watch. I promised you something, did I not?”

Groaning, Will did as he was told and raised his eyes to the screen. It showed him as he was - trapped, unable to go back or forward, entirely in Hannibal's ruthless hands. He nodded forlornly, knowing what was next.

“What was it?”

Will sighed shakily, wiping a hand across his brow. “That I have more to give you.”

“And what did I mean by that?”

“Come. You meant my come.”

“So you know what I'm going to do to you?”

Will took a steadying breath, knowing that by answering he was agreeing to this. “Yes.”

“Excellent. And you have nothing further to add, no comment of your own to make?” As he spoke, Hannibal tugged softly at the metal base and pushed it back in more firmly, making sure to angle it downwards so it rubbed firmly over Will's prostate.

A loud, despairing noise was forced out of Will. His arms were shaking with effort, every muscle rigid.

“No,” he ground out. “I knew you'd have something in response - retaliation for the camera.”

Hannibal made a pleased noise and said, “I do love it when you take your punishment well. You suffer so beautifully.” He tugged at the plug once more to watch Will tremble helplessly. “And now we have it on film so you will be able to watch exactly how. But later, when you're able to concentrate properly.”

Sweat began to bead on Will's face, and down along his back. His desires were torn, split between wanting the impossible - to come again, an ecstatic release from this torture - and wanting to endure it as Hannibal wished. Even the idea that Hannibal wanted this and would demand it from Will, in his manipulative and manoeuvring way, made his brain stutter. Like all the times before when Hannibal had pushed him, it felt dangerous. There was a thrill in relinquishing control which made Will wish to give Hannibal anything he asked for, even if that was a flat denial of something. 

Hannibal dropped all pretences at playing, and firmly set to work, tugging the plug in and out, twisting it gently. Will held himself as still as possible, muscles rigid, and watched the screen. As if from a distance, he saw Hannibal's cool, pleased interest; the minute manipulations of the plug which were causing such shattering and empty sensations. He saw rather than felt the slow dribble of come leak out of him. Hannibal used the plug harder, faster, bearing down on his prostate and forcing a thick stream of come to drip from the tip of his soft cock. Will bit his lip, groaned and panted, but the crescendo which had built did not ease. There was no euphoria or sense of climax at all, all his pent-up frustration remained intact. He hung there, panting, devastated. Slowly, his impotent arousal drained away but it's absence offered no relief either.

Will let himself collapse forward onto the bed, panting and desperate for something he couldn’t attain. He felt the mattress shift as Hannibal leaned around to watch him.

“Bastard,” Will mumbled into the soft sheets. He turned his face towards Hannibal and found he was smiling. “You fucking sadist,” he managed lamely, and shut his eyes, exhausted.

“That's not news to you, Will,” Hannibal said.

Despite everything, Will laughed at how gently amused Hannibal sounded. “That's the cruellest thing you've ever done,” he said.

Hannibal lay down next to him and drew Will into his embrace. Will flopped on top of him, feeling sticky, disgusting, and not caring at all how much of transferred onto Hannibal. 

“And yet here you are, wrapped up in my arms.” The words were spoken tenderly, affectionately into Will’s ear.

Will smiled, face hidden in Hannibal’s neck, and thought about what a ridiculous amount of love he felt for someone who’d just tormented him so pitilessly. But no matter how hard he tried to be outraged, there was no point in lying to himself or Hannibal. They both knew how beautifully severe Hannibal could be, and how it aroused Will like nothing else. 

“I wonder if I could fuck you like this?” Hannibal said. “Boneless, pliable, and unable to gather any enjoyment from it. You'd let me, I think. How wonderfully I could use you for my own lazy pleasure.”

Will snapped his head up. “Don't you dare try that now.”

Hannibal smiled and petted his hair until Will pushed his face back into the crook of Hannibal’s neck.

“I have to thank you for performing so beautifully reliably. With just enough freedom you usually take the opportunity to earn your punishment in admirable fashion.” He leaned closer to whisper softly, “Because now I have something I can truly punish you with, don't I?”

That was something which hadn’t occurred to Will yet. He’d assumed Hannibal derived too much pleasure from his orgasms to make the threat genuine. “You wouldn't.”

“Wouldn't I?” Hannibal said, displaying the shark-like smile which invited Will to test him.

“Fuck.” Will swallowed, wide-eyed at the amount of control Hannibal could wield with that as a threat. Any punishment Hannibal had so far offered Will was rarely anything but. 

“I think tonight has given me much to think about,” Hannibal said.

Will groaned, resigned, into his neck. They’d talk about this later, after a well-deserved rest.


End file.
